Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Horror.

Divina & the Syphoner's Mark: Ch.1
It all started when I woke up naked in a tree. Forty feet up from the snowy ground in the dead of winter. That's how my 18th birthday started.
By Kiersey Hill6 years ago in Horror
What's the history behind Halloween? I'll explain it!
Meanwhile, the party has also gained popularity in other parts of the world, especially in Europe, Latin America, Australia, and East Asia.
By Bryan Dijkhuizen6 years ago in Horror
It Lurks
The day was January 13, 1982. I was camping with my friends; Emily, Dalton, Irene, and me, Melina. Emily, she's the type of gal that is a hardcore athlete. She's this tall, fit lady with long blonde hair that is always put up in a hair tie and a stereotypical athletes headband with a soccer ball stitched in the middle of it. I've never seen her once without it. God I hope she washes it.
By Shane Ferst6 years ago in Horror
Who's Your Cryptid Counterpart?
We all have our counterparts in the world. Usually, they’re described as soulmates, romantic or platonic. But outside of the world we know, there are more things we have in common with the supernatural than many realize. Our personalities and energies draw us to find those who are meant to be in our lives… and who’s to say that can’t include monsters?
By Alesia Brooks6 years ago in Horror
Am I Being Followed? 1.0
This story is a dream I had and will be posted in segments due to the length of how it turned out. **Disclaimer** This story may contain
By PrettyQuill6 years ago in Horror
Phantom Island-"Origins"-17
Derek replaced the dusty crib bedding with the fresh bedding and moved on to wipe down the changing station and other surfaces. While he worked, he remembered the day Janet had told him she was pregnant; the first time.
By Author Jennifer Treece6 years ago in Horror
A Sneak Peek of "Motivation to Kill" - prior to publishing with Hay House publishers...🔪
Motivation to Kill Prologue – Target 1 A young fisherman sat at the bar, drumming his fingers impatiently for his next drink. Humidity and the familiar smell of a salted spray wafted in. He sighed, brain itchy with frustration and arm pit stains the size of cereal bowls. Fishing the ash filled seas with the fires at the Bay had been rough this week, all he’d caught was an already half dead flat head and a baby ray. The tourists, the town’s main source of income had hurriedly left the area last week. Shortly, a well-dressed man entered the bar, sat down on the stool beside him, ordered a Grey Goose Martini and said a warm hello. The fisherman had just started his sixth drink when the well-dressed man asked him how his day had been. ‘Fucking rough’ he replied’. The man flinched. He found swearing to be grotesque. ‘I understand’, he replied. The young fisherman, now heavily drunk at all of nineteen years old started to vent. ‘The locals have it pretty tough right now, unlike like those rich bastards who come down when it suits them to their fancy coast houses. I haven’t seen one rich bloke help with the fires to date. Did you read about that rich prick who has a beach house someplace up on the point? anonymous of course. He could be publicly donating, supporting the locals, but instead he bought that wanky, pretentious piece of shit painting for a 100 million dollars. You know the guy who painted that blurry shit? Well, I hope his house burns down, painting too’. The well-dressed man’s face hardened. It was him who had bought the Monet. He stood up and made a gesture that he was leaving. The next day the young fisherman was dead.
By Sarah6 years ago in Horror
The Woman and The Bear
There is a Woman who lives deep in the woods, on a hill crowded by trees. She’s lived there for years, ten by now at least, in a house made of sticks and stones, draped in moss like a blanket fort. She moved there with her husband and they lived off the land, in isolation, give or take a few tools and ancient cans of beans. The Woman’s most precious and essential contribution to the home was her garden, a lush and diverse selection of herbs and vegetables that sustained both her hunger and restless mind. Her hands were always dirty, her stomach always full. In the early days, small animals would nibble at the garden, teasing The Woman with their scavenging expertise and obvious possession of the land. The Woman was sad when the animals ravaged her hard work, so one day her husband set traps a few meters into the brush on the perimeter of the garden. That night, they heard screeching noises coming from the direction of the traps and the man ran off into the night to check on them. Once he slipped into the darkness, he was gone.
By Teja Rose6 years ago in Horror
Las Hojas Cortan
Don Luis bent over the small altar that he’d been working on since early that morning, carefully arranging the statuettes, the candles, and the tiny bowl of offerings on the immaculate white doily that covered the dark, smoothly polished wood of the handmade dais. He heard the tiny bell over the door ring as someone entered the bodega, but he didn’t turn around or look up from his important work.
By Arnaldo Lopez Jr.6 years ago in Horror
Take-Out
I’m Harvey Hickman and I’ve got the most dangerous job in America… I’m the pizza delivery guy. Oh, I know, I know. Some people argue that the Chinese food delivery guys have it just as bad, but c’mon, the guys that deliver your Chinese food travel in gangs that ride around in hopped-up Japanese crotch rockets and they carry fully automatic weapons (even though they’re still illegal). Maybe mailmen, uh, mailpeople did have it tough for a while, but the post office was going bankrupt anyway and once everyone went strictly email, well that was the end of that – so no, it’s me alright. And that’s why the chicks love me and all the guys hate me, ‘cause they all wanna be me (I mean the guys, not the girls).
By Arnaldo Lopez Jr.6 years ago in Horror
La Guillotine
There was a single window to the cell through which I watched the sun and the moon rise in rotation five times, guided between the iron bars. I spent most of my time watching those yellow and white balls being slung skyward in their cosmic juggle. The sky turns lilac and amber with burning yellow, and it wanes lavender and amethyst with gleaming white. It’s not that I’d never paid any attention before. Dead men, it seems, pay special attention to the heavens.
By Ryan Shulman6 years ago in Horror
The Disappearance of Amelia Bowden
The disappearance of Amelia Bowden Syndicate Vault Entry: 2675 Case Occurrence: November 2018 Martyria Collected: 13th April 2019 by Field Agent Venatoru
By Chris DW6 years ago in Horror